Specialty Coffee News and Events from Around the World

Brooklyn

December 01, 2008

Not so many moons ago I was in a Spanish-speaking part of the world with someone who spoke moderately good Spanish. That is to say, just enough Spanish to get in trouble, in the spirit of Steve Martin's great line about studying "just enough philosophy in college to screw me up for the rest of my life."

My companion was discoursing with one of our hosts, in the lingua franca (lingua hispana) of those territories. I was tuning out, I must admit, watching out the window of the little car at the sloping streets and the dogs and I don't remember what. They say the number of living humans today outnumbers all the dead in the history of the species; sometimes people have a look on their faces that says their trying to do the calculations on that one, and consider the implications. My friends snapped me out of my stupor with a tap on the shoulder and excitedly told me about what he had just been talking about.

He was excited to share a little local witticism, just told to him in castellano by our host. But the thing is, it's identical to one we have in English. He translated it somewhat poorly... as if someone were to say, "A time-device which no longer runs can still be said to be the truth on two moments each day!" It was a very common saying... I couldn't believe he had never heard it before. I realized that if perhaps I repeated the same saying in more idiomatic English, he would probably recognize it. But I didn't have the heart.

We seem very good at this... missing the nose on our own face. I'm sure I'm missing many screamingly obvious things right now, but I couldn't tell you what they were. The only remedy is to (A) admit this is true, I am deeply an ignoramus; and (B) work carefully to correct it where possible. (Option Gamma is to wallow in ignorance, cause, you know "it's realer that way"... and there's a certain boozy appeal in this route, I'll be the first to attest.) So then...

I got back from Seattle Saturday night. Sunday I took the day off and slept in. The deliberate decision to sleep + being tired in general + jetlag = not waking up in the morning but in the afternoon. So for my afternoon coffee I went to Southside Coffee, which is pretty close to my house, but why do I hardly go there?

Basically the train is in the other direction... in fact, both of the closest stations are in other directions. In fact, if you drew two rays from the starting point of my apartment (O) to the nearest train stations (A1, A2), then the reverse (N) of the ray in the direction of Southside (P) would bisect the arc of the two original train rays.

But recently I've gone there more often. The coffee's very good (Intelligentsia-provided), and the staff is very serious-friendly and well-trained. There's a pretty good vibe there. Somehow they keep the laptop forest from feeling hostile or cold. Good feng-shui or something; I don't know. The owners are great guys. Etc. Etc. Southside got major ink at the top of the piece I mentioned a while back in the New York Times.

Sunday's visit, it was perfect coffee weather. I was doing my best Northwest-transplant impression with three-days stubble, a knit cap, and a peacoat. It was raining a cold, stinging rain, and everyone had their headlights on because the cloud-cover kept the sun from lighting up the city. My friend Rachel was there, at the center of a little half-circle of couches, seemingly holding court (she later told me those were just random friendly people she had met there... see? great vibes). We walked back in the direction of my place (she works on my block) through the cold and it was a good afternoon. So props to Southside. The coffee was good and it opened my eyes. But that's not even my point... or rather opening my eyes is the point, but not in the caffeine sense.

October 15, 2008

Monday evening was our cupping in Brooklyn. It was a lot of fun. We cupped blind 7 coffees I roasted, then I made everyone guess what they were. Then we drank beer. My friend, Koji, who you will remember from the "Japanese-style" pour-over drip event at Beer Table, snapped a few photos, and I am posting them here. Koji, sadly for us here in New York, is moving back to Japan. But he's continuing on in the specialty coffee industry, and he's promised to keep us all apprised of what he's up to there. Thanks, Koji, and good luck!

For the event, Taylor of Crop to Cup let us use the big open area at one end of his awesome collective office-loft (loffice?) space, Green Spaces NYC. We also constructed the world's biggest cupping table. It was really fun and relaxed. I wished I could have stayed there and hung out all night.

However! I had to get ready for another trip. I'm writing you now from the French Quarter of New Orleans. I'm here for the National Coffee Association's Fall Education Conference. We're here promoting specialty coffee from El Salvador to the big boys, and I'll be participating in a panel and helping lead a tour as well while I'm here. I'm staying right on the corner of Bourbon Street and Canal. It's so picturesque and charming! I'll be stuck in a boring conference room (the room is boring, that is, not the conference) on Thursday, but hopefully I can hit the town in the evening, and on Friday we're doing some sight-seeing along with the coffee tour.

Then, on Saturday, I'm traveling to Manta, Ecuador, to judge the Taza Dorada coffee competition, which is a Cup of Excellence-style competition of the best coffees in Ecuador. But more on that later. For now, time to seek out some chicory coffee and drink it down by the river.

September 23, 2008

Part of the reason I was out of touch for so long is that I spent the last two weeks wrapped up in a project that is, unfortunately, unbloggable.

I was evaluating coffee in a strange style: I wasn't cupping, nor was I straight-up drinking the stuff. I was drinking odd little half-cups of coffee brewed on an electric home machine. My daily intake was easily as high as it has ever been, caffeine-wise. Even my titanium nerves, inured to caffeine as they are, were jangled and jittery at the end of the day. On top of that, I had a two-hour train commute both ways to the location. On top of that, the coffee was terrible. I mean, truly god-awful. If I had been scoring on a standard 100-point, SCAA scale, maybe one or two of over 40 coffees tried (in multiple iterations, natch) would have broken 80 points. Many, many were sub-65 affairs.

So you will understand if, at the end of the day, I didn't feel like blogging. Plus, there wasn't that much to blog about.

This made it all the more sweet this week when my good friend Taylor "and Mindy" Mork, of Crop to Cup Coffee, invited me to his new office digs for a little cupping. I had some samples of green coffee from El Salvador provided by our mutual friend, Fernando Lima of the Cuzcachapa mill. I went to Cuzcachapa back in November of last year, and Fernando was one of the nicest people I met in a country full of kindness. Cuzcachapa, a large operation overall, has a huge specialty arm (not just an afterthought), and I snapped some photos while I was down there.

(the skull is smiling!)

(That's Fernando on the right, with head cupper Mauricio on the left)

(That's ALL specialty coffee in this picture.... oh glory!)

Anyway, Taylor's company got their start in Uganda, where he and his partner Jake have deep roots. Right now, they bring in some excellent coffee from the Bugisu region of Uganda, which I hope to visit sooner rather than later. But they are ambitious about expanding their offering list beyond their traditional comfort zone. Right now they are moving aggressively in Indonesia, with some interesting non-Sumatra prospects. One other place they have looked seriously is El Salvador, and if there is one country I have gotten to know well coffee-wise, that's the one.

So on Monday morning, I roasted up three samples (from farms called Las Nubes, La Palma, and El Paste) and trekked to downtown Brooklyn to cup with Taylor. He's got an office space in what has to be the coolest collective office space I have ever seen. It's in this old, yet sturdy 6-story building right near the mega-intersection of Flatbush and Atlantic. In another universe this building might have been derelict or turned into cheap condos by this point, but instead the owners have leased it out to a collective of green-oriented companies, Crop to Cup being one of them. They have a big, open floorplan, with skyline views of Brooklyn on both sides, a big industrial kitchen, and lots of very interesting people doing very interesting things.

I took some crappy photos with my cell phone. I wish I had captured better the overall coolness of the space, but here's a little corner of our cupping table to give you an idea...

We disturbed the peace a bit with Taylor's loud-ass Bunn grinder, but the slurping didn't seem to bother too many people. For the record, the coffee from Las Nubes was the clear winner. All three coffees had great sweetness, and a thick chocolate note. But only Las Nubes had that great, lively purple-fruit and citrus acidity that defines the best Central American coffees. Las Nubes was my choice for my morning press-pot today, Tuesday. I'm also intrigued to see the coffee from El Paste as an espresso component: very sweet and lovely, and not too much noise on either end of the spectrum.

Taylor also whipped out his Handpresso, which product I can't believe I've never played with before. Essentially you hand-pump the brew chamber to well-beyond 9 bars of pressure, then pour in near-boiling water and release the valve, at which point the water passes through a paper-filter pod and comes out as espresso on the other end. It completely lacks the full, fatty mouthfeel of high-grade commercial espresso, but I'll be damned if it wasn't pretty good and sweet. Perfect for traveling! Crop to Cup is offering their coffee in Handpresso pods soon.

All in all, Monday was a day to remember why I am in the specialty coffee industry to begin with: quality, love, taste, and people. It was such a welcome reminder after two weeks of dreck and train rides. Over the weekend, I even found time to go to the park with the lovely Liz...

... where we were thoroughly entertained by a bunch of kids running around and under a gigantic American flag, parachute-style, which their teachers/camp-counselors were billowing in the wind, which inspired me to strike a Barack Obama "coin pose"...

And on Sunday I even found time to stop by the local pub and watch the mighty Seattle Seahawks get their first of many victories this season, this one a thorough pwnage of the hated (and admittedly dreadful) Rams. There was a couple in the bar wearing San Francisco jerseys, watching the Niners dispatch the lowly Detroit Lions. I talked a little smack with them, rivals of the Seahawks as they are. The girl was friendly but the guy just snorted. They'll get their due comeuppance soon. (Did I mention the Niners were my first team when I was but a wee lad living in Sacramento? It's true, though I was born in Seattle and have never been to a Niners game and have been to several Hawks games.) Also: check out the Alex Smith jersey... ha! Oh where be ye now, young Alex?

The moral of the story is: if you get dreck, stick it out. Victory and sweet coffee are always just around the corner, if only you know where to look.

July 22, 2008

As per normal, we're brewing up another coffee and food event in New York. Bobbie Marchand and I are planning something for the first weekend in August. Plan on coffee, plan on Bobbie's delicious food. Where and when? Stay tuned.

July 20, 2008

(Incidentally, I made a video Thursday night of me roasting up the coffees for the cupping on Saturday, but YouTube didn't like how big the file was and I haven't had time to play around with editing or condensing it. If I post it now, it will be like a bit of time travel, but perhaps I shall do it anyway...)

Saturday was quite a lovely cupping at Beer Table in Park Slope. We had about 25 people in there on a positively sweltering Saturday late morning. Jenny from Beer Table was kind enough to open up the joint early for this. I led the group in a cupping of three great coffees, old friends of mine: Lensamo Lamisso (ETH), SMS Korate (ETH) and Los Naranjos (SAL).

I would say that about two thirds of the people were newcomers. That makes me really happy! Rachel Graville, who set this whole encounter up between the Coffee Society and Beer Table, brought homemade scones and candied ginger cake (bomb).

And Koji gave a great demonstration of a Japanese-style pour-over drip method of brewing coffee, with an assist from his wife Saiko and friend Maki. It's a lot like a Melitta-style pour-over set up, but the shape of the cone and the filter is different, as is the filter material (a less-offensive tasting paper). Koji, who sells this equipment in Japan, had a very formal way of cooling the water slightly and pouring in a very controlled manner. The result was a very smooth, clear cup of coffee. Even the dark roast coffee that I brought him (at his request) came out quite lovely. Very impressive.

After cupping our big group split up into the beer group at Beer Table and the brunch group at Little D across the street (where Rachel works). Since moving a couple of blocks three weeks ago, I am rediscovering how great this little section of Park Slope is.

Yesterday evening I went for a run in the park as the sun was going down. It was hot as hell and I was soon drenched in sweat, but there was a nice little breeze. Fireflies were lighting up all over the place in the cool greenery beneath the oak trees. Taking it easy on the last half-mile back to my apartment, I ran past the bandshell where they have concerts all summer. I had planned to just go home and call it a night, but something made me stop.

They were showing Enter the Dragon on a gigantic screen, with live music by the electric-tabla fusion musician Karsh Kale. You can watch those videos one after another, but I can't really explain to you how cool it was combined, especially during the extended fight scenes between Bruce Lee's sister and Oharra, and between Williams and Han, and the sections where Bruce Lee is sneaking around the palace. I stood there and made some cool new friends (Hi Jackie! Hi Kate!) and we all just watched the show in the warm, breezy twilight, fireflies twinkling all the while, all of us lighting up every time the Little Dragon flew through the air.

It was the kind of day and evening that makes you happy to be alive, happy for the people around you who make life so interesting, who are so interesting themselves, and happy to be able to experience all the wonderful things that humans (Lensamo Lamisso with his gorgeous, sweet coffee; Bruce Lee with his martial arts, his intensity and his oddly angelic presence) can do, and grateful for this imperfect (way too hot and humid yesterday!) and yet infinitely lovely (fireflies!) world.